


I Found Him; He's Coming Down

by Thirteen_Winter_Vixens



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Criminal Masterminds, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mentions of Murder, Obessive Love, Plot, Some angst, dark characters, explict sex, happy-ish ending, sex in the first chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 12:16:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18151784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thirteen_Winter_Vixens/pseuds/Thirteen_Winter_Vixens
Summary: Inspired by Halsey's Coming Down song.Jim and Spock meet once again. This time may very well be their last.





	1. I Found God; I Found Him In A Lover

It was the way he touched him.

Gentle, soft but unhesitant, certain and needful. It pressed into him and yet never completely demanded. It let him know that he could walk away. He could stop this.

If he wanted to.

Or maybe it was the way he looked at him?

Those eyes he could sense now.

Like a caress that lingered down his spine. Those eyes always found him, sometimes quicker than he himself sought out his. Most nights when he turned, he found those eyes on him in an instant, heating him from inside. They took in every detail, so much so, that he always wanted to fidget.

That on days when he knew they’d meet, on days that he thought he might catch him on some station in some part of the universe, he always spent more time in the mirror perfecting his appearance.

Those eyes had attracted him from the beginning.

They were intense, always intense, the way the light shone in them was like looking into the sun. Blinding, scorching and dismantling him.

While his hands, his voice, his manners all said choice and free-will and _walk away_ , those eyes were the only thing that demanded.

They set him alight while also warning him that he was truly and savagely dangerous.

Or perhaps what drew him in was his lips.

Plump and soft, always surprisingly soft even when they bit, even when they crashed against and bruised his own.

He had watched in the beginning without realizing as he chewed them thoughtfully, puffed them out playfully, smirked smugly, _laughed_.

And his laugh was nothing less than intoxicating.

He breathed him in whenever he could, feeling his heart race, feeling that heat pool and collect deep in his abdomen.

Those lips, he swore, enchanted him.

From the first taste, lingering coffee and sugar and something completely all him.

They hadn’t started slow or shaky or awkward. It had never been that way for them.

Like two stars colliding, it had been every beautiful, terrifying rage of emotion. They had pressed against each other, lost to one another and then had leapt at the opportunity to devour each other as much as possible.

He had wanted those large, firm hands on him.

Wanted to feel blunt fingers digging into his shoulders, chewed nails possessively scratching down his back, strong palms smacking his ass before gripping tightly pulling him closer and deeper. 

He wanted those intense eyes on him. Wanted to be the one to light them up, wanted to make them stay on him always, _always_ on him.

When he awoke next to him with the sun glowing onto his skin, he wanted to be the first thing he saw. He wanted those eyes widening when he thrusted into him, wanted to see them close in pleasure, clenched shut in release; sleepily and innocently heavy in elated satisfaction that only came in exhaustion. He wanted them on him when they walked down the street for lunches, wanted them to sparkle at their banter, wanted them to show every emotion and desire and need when the rest of him couldn’t or wouldn’t.

He wanted those lips to himself.

Only him.

Every time they parted, he made sure to bite them harshly, swell them, bleed them just a little, just so whoever sees him knows.

They have to know.

God, they have to.

When he walked into the bar, he knew he was there.

Like most times, he could sense him. Sense the eyes immediately on him.

He didn’t look around, it was a busy night and if he wanted to hide, he was a master at it. But he knew, tonight, after so many nights separated, months spent apart, there would be little patience. Hiding would be kept for a different time. A different chase.

Excitement and arousal pooled in his gut as he stepped into the dim establishment and walked confidently to the bar.

He almost smirked to himself flooding with pride, with delight.

It never stopped, not in years whenever he had his full attention, his desire.

It was _he_ who held it, _he_ who was craved, who was wanted and it flooded him with smug happiness.

He sat at the bar with a scotch on ice. Each minute that passed pressed against his nerves. He wanted to reach out, pin him down both physically and mentally. He wanted it so much his fingers started to tremble under the strain of sitting on the bar stool, surrounded by too many people not him, too much voices, too much music.

When he was approached, he turned embarrassingly quick, only to glare at the offending woman who went from smiling welcomingly to flinching and backing away.

Another, this one male, tried to speak to him and he very nearly snarled.

He took a deep breath when the last person quickly retreated.

He needed calm, he needed to center himself.

They had all night, he reminded himself. This wouldn’t be like the last two times. They had more than a couple hours and if he had to sit here enduring what was sure to be torture in patience then he would do so.

The end would be worth-

“You’re practically begging.”

His breath came out in a choked gasp all leaving in a rush.

Jim was directly behind him, though how he didn’t sense or hear his approach was beyond him.

How did he always surprise him?

He didn’t have to turn around he could sense the smile directed at him.

Jim moved forward brushing his nose against the back of his neck knowing how sensitive he was there leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

Spock was already painfully hard aching in his black pants.

He spent an embarrassing amount of time that day picking out his outfit. Navy blues and blacks, cashmere, soft and easy to get off.

And a coat thick enough to keep him warm and long enough to hide just this problem.

“My, my, Spock,” Jim whispered right by his ear, “I think we need to work on your…endurance.”

That brought him back to life and he allowed himself a slip of a smile.

He couldn’t help his body leaning back into the firm, warm chest. Like he knew he would, Jim reached forward propping his own drink on the bar; his hands landing exactly where Spock both knew and wanted, directly on his thighs pressing gently and smoothing running his palms up his thighs.

“My…endurance is unquestionable. The fact that you have your doubts is merely the human flaw of forgetfulness.”

Now he felt Jim’s smile, his face pressed into the crook of his neck.

Those lips kissed his throat before teeth came and nipped him none too gently.

Tonight, would be exquisitely painful he knew already thinking of the morning where he could see their marks on each other.

“Forgetfulness, now Mr. Spock, I highly doubt anyone had ever forgotten you. But I’ll play. How do you intend to remind me I wonder?”

He held in a groan when one of Jim’s hands trailed up his inner thigh and onto his straining dick.

Squeezing lightly, perfectly, knowing just the pressure to use to get Spock to bite his cheeks. He forced himself not to buck in his seat and only moved once he saw the man next to him watching them with unapologetic interest.

He growled aloud and the young man surprised, backed off slowly, reluctantly turning away.

He too had to force himself to change position. He argued that he had no wish for anyone to see them this way. No wish to lose himself, either, not with James standing looking as unaffected as he did.

Jim smirked, knowing, chin raised slightly in challenge. Eyes sharp and calculating.

How Spock was going to enjoy that massive ego melting underneath him.

Spock stood as close as he could without touching him and allowed all of his fantasies over the past nine months to rush into him, allowed himself, finally, to think of all the things he wanted to do. The sounds he was going to bring out of that plump, delicious mouth.

“I have several ideas.” He said casually, carefully setting down his mask, allowing himself to show all of his emotion only his eyes.

Jim’s nostrils flared, eyes widening and he saw just a glimpse of the same hurricane desire reflected back at him.

This all-consuming need to be with each other, to be in one another as if they were one being having been forced to live separately. He had never known this kind of beautiful, destructive and frightening emotions could exist within someone without burning though them with their ferocity.

He led them, back-straight, stride casual and face as stoic as any Vulcan’s on a common Thursday night.

Outside was too dense with illicit drug users or scammers this time of night. Damn Jim for making them wait so long.

His hotel was a half-hour away with traffic but his rented car would take ten minutes to summon.

Too long.

He needed, they needed to take the edge off.

Now.

Logical, he thought happily as he glared at the few men waiting in line.

“The washroom is closed. Use the one in the across the street.”

He heard Jim’s breath catch at his authoritarian tone. Unyielding and sharp.

One out of four of the males raised his voice in protest.

He opened the door to the thankfully clean washroom and saw four men inside.

Jim was right on his heels, hands already reaching, always the first to cave once Spock turned dominate.

“Out!” The order ricocheted off the tiled walls and the men all jumped.

Two who were still pissing yelled back at him.

Inpatient now, he narrowed his eyes and walked the four steps to the two men washing their hands. Faster than humans, his reflexes and strength were unparalleled since meeting Jim, he had done everything possible to show him that he was equal, that he could fight and defend himself as well as Jim, if not better.

That he could endure every hit, could be strong enough to make that fierce, stubborn man finally give in and be taken care of. The added benefit of watching Jim's arousal flare was a happy result as well.

He grabbed those men by their necks and before they could raise their voices any more than yelps, he had them at the threshold and threw them literally out of the room.

Landing in a painful heap several meters away he glared once more at the men still crowding the door.

“Shit.”

“Oh, fuck!”

He turned quickly to the men by the urinals.

“Okay, okay, fuck man!”

They ran out, one with his pants still by his thighs.

Jim was on him before he could lock the door.

Pushing him back into the wall he pressed the button and allowed himself to fully immerse himself in Jim’s mouth, in his skin.

Jim moaned loudly, turned on by the display, by being once again back in his arms and it made Spock’s blood boil.

He did this, he’s the one making this man squirm and rut against him, always moving, always needing closer.

Tongues fighting for control, Spock dug his fingers into Jim’s hips, squeezing harshly and Jim’s bucked up into him, their painfully hard cocks rubbing against each other through their layers of too much clothes.

Unlike him, Jim still wore tactical pants, meant for harsh wear, for phaser fire and knife slashes not so much erections and the harsh restriction finally got to him.

Breaking from the breathless kiss he gasped, shaking and moaning.

“Fuck Spock. Spock. Jesus, yes, _Spock_ …”

Eyes squeezed shut, face pink and head thrown back Jim rocked against him without rhythm. If he picked the blonde up, Spock smiled to himself, Jim would be done in seconds.

And yet…

He moved away; the slightest movement yet one caught immediately.

Jim’s eyes widened in shock and then in knowing anger and glee. The mix of emotions was wonderful.

He made himself freeze though it was a vastly difficult feat. The slightest movement would have them rutting each other until they came in their pants and while enjoyable, it was not what Spock wished for after so long.

“A lesson in endurance is one I particularly excel in,” he said with a hint of bite in his tone.

Jim tried to stop himself from smiling, a mere twitch of his lips showed his respect and joy. His eyes narrowed though even as his hips strained without his full consent for more friction.

It took more effort than he cared to admit to keep Jim still against the wall.

“Son of a bitch,” Jim said breathless. He took a shaky breath, eyes closing.

Right on the edge, Spock took considerable amount of pride in how long it took Jim to stop trembling.

Still red, when he opened his eyes, the blue was clearer, sharper though still piercing with hunger.

Good.

“Get. On. Your. Knees,” Spock said slowly, tone carefully even and utterly demanding.

An order.

Jim’s eyes fluttered beautifully, swallowing, he stared at him as he slowly sunk to the ground.

Face still turned upwards, eyes on his, heavy and half closed in pleasure, he only looked away after Spock slowly undid his button, lowering his zipper allowing the obscene sound to echo through the washroom, he lowered his pants and allowed his leaking cock to protrude out.

At the sight, Jim couldn’t hold his gaze, instead it went right to Spock’s dark green, long and thick cock. The natural lubrication was already making his pants damp and the rush of air around it was wonderfully painful.

He hissed as he slowly gripped the base and slowly, achingly slow, he dragged his sensitive hand right to the tip and groaned loudly as his thumb flicked the slit and precum gathered there.

Fuck.

He blinked, leaning forward into Jim’s space, one hand bracing against the wall.

One thing that had always caused him some uncertainty, some shame, had been his genitals.

Half-breeds tended to have some similarities to both genetic donors and he was no exception. He had a mostly human cock without any foreskin-Jim to call it circumcised, though his did retreat into his folds slightly, it always showed unlike a full Vulcan.

However, like Vulcans he self-lubricated, excreted chemicals for temporary numbing and had no testicles showing. And every time he showed his dick, he always had that lingering sensation of embarrassment.

His first encounter in his teens had been one of shame and shock that ended in an awkward and humiliating ending with his then intended not even completing the act; after that he had no desire to enter into a sexual relationship.

Until Jim entered his life like a desert lighting storm.

And Jim, once he had stripped Spock naked with unadorned hunger and fierce, scorching desire, he had stared too. Only this time the stare was just as intense as his look after they kissed, just as excited, and twice as devoted.

Then, he had spoken, unknowing it was exactly what Spock never knew he wanted to hear, now he spoke it because it was something Jim made sure to repeat whenever he could, whenever they could carve out more than a few hours every year.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jim whispered, almost religiously devoted and Spock’s breath caught like it always did, almost sending him to orgasm straight from Jim’s rough and broken tone.

Spock let go of himself right before Jim took over, he grabbed Jim’s longer-than-last-time hair and harshly pulled making the younger man moan right before his mouth stretched around him.

Spock threw back his head at the warm heat engulfing him.

And Jim, in retaliation, didn’t ease him into it but took him completely right to the base.

“James!” He could only gasp, shaking as he let Jim suck on him much too fast, too harshly.

But Jim only had moments before Spock’s numbing chemicals wore off and he would have to back off, normally not able to take all of him.

The numbing agents were wonderful while dealing with pon farr and as Spock had found out with passionate, rough sex that Spock naivety didn’t truly understand prior to Jim. But acts such as this had been utterly alien to him.

Having one’s mouth on you in general was alien to the way he was raised.

But Jim had insisted and Spock had found out he more than enjoyed it even if it had taken a few times for them to figure it out.

He felt it when Jim started getting sensation back, his throat moving to swallow, his taste buds coming back to life as he moaned loud and long again around Spock’s tip making him tremble.

Spock moaned, stomach clenching in the need to come.

Not yet.

Not yet.

“Fuck Spock. I think I forgot what you taste like.”

He licked up the underside of his cock always telling him his lubrication was sweet and honeylike while contrasting with his slightly bitter semen making-as Jim repeated ‘an irresistible delight’, twirling his tongue and eyes showing his mischief when he glanced up at him.

Spock clenched his jaw even as his cock twitched under the attention.

“Cease speaking.” His voice cracked and Spock fully gave up on being somewhat presentable.

He was quivering, toes curling and needing to bury himself once again in Jim.

Feeling it too, Jim’s cerulean eyes darkened and he once again took Spock deep, his hands going from Spock’s hips to his ass, squeezing roughly and like Spock hoped, digging his nails in harshly.

He threw back his head and shouted, hips thrusting as he fucked into Jim’s mouth.

He was rough, untimed, causing Jim to choke a few times, drool and precum leaking down a corner of his mouth but neither stopped.

He tightened his hands in Jim’s hair trying his best not to pull him closer but to hold him steady. One hand unconsciously going to his meld points.

“James,” he hissed, feeling the pressure build as Jim’s mind connected with his sending hot jolts down his spine.

His pace increased jerking harshly into Jim’s willing mouth and barely controlled, he just managed to stop himself from burying into that heat when he froze and came with a shocking amount of force.

Slack-jawed and dazed he gasped, moaning still as Jim swallowed his cum, mouth still around his cock slowly easing him through aftershocks. And continuing, once more in retaliation and making Spock overstimulated, he hissed, tensing and with relief and disappointment felt Jim back away the slightest inch.

Once Spock shakily stepped slightly away, heart barely slowing, a second wave of arousal came not for the first time he wondered what pon farr might be like be for him since Jim was always rose endless tidal waves of need from him decades before he was ever meant to feel as much as that.

Jim was barely catching his breath his head leaning against Spock’s thigh. He smoothed out Jim’s hair caressing his head.

“Shit Spock… yes…fuck…I told you not to use your telepathy until later.”

Spock huffed out what Jim called his laugh and shrugged unable to do much more than that.

“The car is waiting.” His voice was practically velvet as he tucked himself back into his pants.

It took no small amount of effort to stop himself from fucking Jim here but he argued that in the car at least he’d closer and closer to their room.

And that is where he wanted Jim.

Jim barely got to his feet his eyes still glistening from how strong his own release had been.

Although he knew Jim would find some form of punishment-pleasure for this it was all he could do not to draw him in and devour those red lips that would taste like both of them.

Back razor-straight, he guided them none too slowly out of the bar. They got a few looks but they’d be off this planet by noon tomorrow so Spock took no heed of the stares.

Going out into the cool night was a relief. The wind chilled him just enough not to turn around and hoist Jim up like one of his ancestors.

However, when he opened the door Jim passed him with a smirk so he knew what Spock was thinking away.

“You’re always the planner in our relationship, Spock. God, I love that about you,” Jim said the moment the door was shut.

Indeed, Jim wouldn’t have cared if they spent the entire night in that washroom or behind in an alleyway or that one night they spent two hours in am automatic changeroom barely muffling their moans.

If his mother ever found out what he did, how far he could drown in this man, he might never look at her face to face again.

Jim fingered the luxury seats of the car. Extra long, meant to accommodate the neighbouring species Telvetes who were naturally seven to eight feet tall. It was on autopilot and the moment Spock spoke his address, it started.

Jim finally glanced at him, eyes alight and a ready smile.

“How long until your hotel?”

Spock’s heart raced and he replied, “Long enough.”

Jim grinned wickedly before stripping completely.

 

When Spock finally, _finally,_ thrusted into Jim, both of them moaned.

It felt like hours that they’d been kissing, hands forever moving trying to touch every inch of skin revealed.

Once more, it was rough, Jim bared down on him with equal force as he jerked up. The slapping of their flesh made a rhythm that Spock’s heart picked up joined by their mutual gasps, moans and shouts.

Finally, Spock rendered Jim speechless as they came closer and closer to the edge.

Jim’s hands pressed into his chest, his eyes squeeze shut as his hole clenched onto him.

Spock snarled feeling Jim’s impending release. His hand once more reached for Jim’s temple. Immediately, the blonde’s eyes shot open, too overwhelmed by the connection. He came soundlessly only to completely collapse onto Spock.

He rolled them and much to Jim’s over sensitized body he fucked Jim the way he’d be thinking of every morning for the past seven months, eight days and nineteen hours. Jim could only hold on, mouth open, skin flushed and sweating. He threw back his head and Spock descended to suck a bruise on that exposed spot. He came just as blinding and shocking as he always did with Jim, jerking and pulling Jim closer to him.

It took minutes for them to move with Jim being the first one to say, “It really doesn’t get boring with you does it?”

He bit Jim’s new mark in response.

 

They barely made it into the room.

So caught up in the lift, he hardly heard the bell.

Jim laughed, legs wrapped around his waist.

It took three tries to get the door unlocked, Jim moaning into his mouth and him unwilling to let Jim out of his arms for any reason. They landed ungracefully onto the bed and the softness must have startled Jim a bit because he gasped for a different reason this time.

Spock backed away only so that he was sitting up between Jim’s legs on his knees.

“How long?” He didn’t need to clarify.

Jim’s eyes just blinked once before he bit his swollen lip.

He quickly tore off the offending shirt Spock made him put back on before they entered the luxurious hotel. His skin was still damp from his sweat and Spock had to still himself from licking him.

“Since last time.” Spock growled knowing.

Jim inhaled sharply and Spock saw his cock start to harden again.

Damn him and kinks.

He slowly slid back down, arms raising Jim’s, hands deliciously interwound as he locked them above their heads.

“You need to sleep in a bed. You deserve a bed at least.”

Jim chuckled and said, “You don’t want to know where I’ve been. Trust me, it was better without beds being involved.”

He growled again, his imagination taking hold.

He felt Jim’s amusement, his spark of lust but underneath that was his appreciation, deep tidal waves of something gentle and caring and overwhelming amount of emotion.

They had never spoken the phrase aloud to each other. Not in the ten years they’d been doing this.

But it need not be said when they traded minds as often as they did.

When every touch blasted through them; every look exchanging entire conversations.

It had always been this way, this comfort, this ease for them.

Fiery and passionate, soft and trusting.

They had kept secrets together that could change the Federation. Given each other more than what all logic dictated. Were drawn together even when they pushed each other away.

This time, Spock leads them, his hands wandering curiously over Jim’s body.

They tried to do this each time, seeing and marking differences, new scars, bruises, loss or gaining weight. Dimples and hair growth.

Sometimes Jim would wax his chest, other times he left it and Spock got to drag his fingers through fine, light-blonde hair.

While Jim loved him being hairy, even ordering him to grow a neatly trimmed beard-he did so but only until Jim saw it, ran his hands and lips over it- and quickly shaved it claiming it itched-Jim didn’t like to grow his own claiming it grew patchy.

Spock just thought Jim preferred to look pretty or handsome, cute over sexy, all the more the deceive those who thought less of him.

For a long while they simple revelled in each other’s closeness.

Skin on skin, touches feather-light and familiar. 

How he missed Jim!

More and more the need to be close... to have everything... to soak into Jim and him into Spock once more gained on them.

Time pressed in on them, he wanted to take Jim in all ways, in every way and let Jim have his way with him.

But.. _time_.

Time was always against them.

He memorized every twitch, shake, tremble and jump.

He tasted every inch of skin from curled toes and delicate ankles to strong calves and thick, shaking thighs, he licked and nipped and sucked on inch of stomach, clenching abs, sobbing chest and bit into pearled, pink nipples. He licked up beads of salty sweat, inhaled the pure scent of Jim. His sweat, his cologne, his ejaculate.

He spends untold time on worshiping Jim’s smaller but thick cock. Taking all of him deeply and slowly. He hollows his cheek and makes sure to look Jim in the eyes as he descended torturously slow. His hands play with balls, such a feeling to have on his palms; they excite him and his telepathy that commonly feels like tiny shocks to humans from his fingers causes Jim to buck and then he has to pin Jim back down which only makes him whine a harsh sound that drives Spock mad every time.

He rolls his eyes back as he relishes in the taste of Jim’s precum.

He’s velvet steel, a hard shaft that glistens with Spock’s saliva that so devastates him, it makes him rub himself against the bed.

For all that he’d been aware of this activity, it took Jim merely three days for Spock to lose his resolve.

Vulcans might never savour each other this way unless in pon farr, Spock himself viewed it as dirty, quite literally even after Jim showed him how much pleasure could be gained.

But the very first taste of him had all of his logic crumbling, he could not give up this.

The core of Jim, all _his_.

His to taste, to claim. The sounds that he can create this way are magical. They cut through the air with devastating force and wedge their way right into his mind, his body, his heart.

He’ll dream of this for nights after.

Of Jim’s voice, of his hands in Spock’s hair, gripping on his shoulders, caressing his temple and hand that's bruising the blonde's hip with just the right amount of force. Of his taste as Jim gives himself to Spock, screaming his name.

His hands trailed in his wake, continuing their journey, tracing curves and dips and scars, his telepathy leaving trails of sparks everywhere he touched.

He bit into Jim’s shoulder just enough to bruise in a perfect mark of his mouth and drowned in Jim’s following howl.

The smell of cum, the feeling of it hitting his stomach was utterly satisfying and he bent down to lick it up causing Jim to breathlessly laugh.

He smiled back, a smile that is Jim’s and Jim’s only.

And so too, does Jim take from him, revel in him, worship him.

His hands are heavenly, they trace him with as much awe as Spock feels.

His mouth is hot and wet and needful.

This is the Jim that Spock loves as much as it frightens him.

He turns powerful, like a Le-mayta that makes you believe it can be domestic and calls out to you and when you give in; it devours you whole.

This is what Jim does to him.

Every touch, nip, kiss, lick, every brush of touch sends Spock into ecstasy.  

He calls and Spock is lead and if he could, if he only dared, he’d be right at Jim’s side every second of every day.

Jim towers over him, seemingly larger than what is really is, taking all of Spock’s view.

The only thing he hears Jim’s ragged breathing, feels the heat of his cock against his own as a scorching, heavy pleasure.

Slowly, he sits back taking his mouth off Spock’s nipple and he groans at the loss.

Wrecked.

He knows he’s there.

He knows all the minutes he took to make sure his hair was in place, to make sure he was looking perfect were, in the end, for nothing.

Every time it’s like this.

He can see himself through Jim's gaze.

Their connection flickering alive between them feeding an endless loop that neither has the will nor power to stop or walk away from.

Spock's eyes are blown, black against green flushed skin. Hickeys and bite marks litter his skin like Jim’s. His hair is a mess, falling into his face, from all the time Jim ran his hands through it. His legs are spread, hands shaking. 

He arches as Jim takes hold of his overstimulated hands, they burn almost painfully. If they had time, a few weeks or a month, he could get used to it but the breaks are torture and he never has been able to grow a resistance against Jim’s insistent fixation.

Jim spends a few seconds sliding their fingers together, making his breath hitch and then he lunges forward and licks from palm to the tips of his fingers, biting down at the very pads. He quickly pulls but Jim doesn’t let go, squeezing one hand, pressing their fingertips together, he sucks in three fingers of the other hand.

Spock’s control is completely tested and he curls up, abdomen clenching and tried to stop himself from cuming too soon. 

He pants harshly, hands caught and then gives in when Jim takes their interwound hand, still sucking on one, and wraps them around their cocks.

One pull and he’s finished.

Only, Jim isn’t.

He slowly runs their hands around his cock and balls and Spock is overloaded from sensation.

He, unlike humans, doesn’t need a rest but it does become overstimulating after awhile.

Since Jim encourages such emotions in him easily and far too quickly than normal, he knows it will soon painful.

And then Spock knows where this is headed, his knowing gaze makes Jim smirk back.

Jim lets him go only to straddle him again and both of them reach for Jim’s hole.

Already stretched from earlier, that sadly Spock didn’t get to do, ordered to watch as Jim had stretched himself grinning back at him, they moan simultaneously as they enter him.

He sits up quickly, kissing Jim deeply loving the taste of him.

Before the night is through, he plans on licking and plunging into that hole, memorizing the taste of them together once again. For now, they moan together, rocking into one another, bringing themselves closer on the feeling of Spock’s fingers, of Jim’s tight hole fluttering around them, of the tingling of his telepathic nerves that jolt down each of their spines in equal measure until they’re both moaning into each other’s mouths.

They lay down gently after their climax.

Content, for a mere while.

Jim curls into him, head on his shoulder, legs interwound, hand wrapped around his chest. “I missed you,” he says quietly.

Spock breathes out, both pained and relieved. “As I you,” he replies, as he had every time.

“Tell me about this one,” he says as he traces a thin new scar on the blonde’s shoulder.

“Knife wound. Fucker actually thought he could take me. The only reason he landed that is because Bones came charging in at the wrong moment distracting me.”

Jealousy seizes up and Jim senses it, slapping him not hard enough to hurt but enough that he’s slightly blushed and startled out of his train of thought.

“I don’t fuck Bones.”

He knows.

He also knows this is temporary.

They have a time limit.

He knows that they have very different lives away from each other. They don’t claim monogamy.

He knows.

It still leaves him breathless at times. Meditation is never achievable for several days after they meet up.

“I know,” he answers thickly.

When Jim raises his head, he needs a minute and closes his eyes.

Jim traces his eyebrows, his cheekbones, his jaw. Eyes never giving him the privacy nor quiet he sometimes needs. He loves that about him even if it grates sometimes.

Jim fell in love with his strength and he can’t stand weakness. But he never shies away from Spock’s weak moments.

When he opens his eyes, Jim’s gaze is soft and open. Honest. It’s perhaps the only time in the last nine months he’s been as open as he is and Spock once again gains a boost of power having been the person to do this to him.

He alone gets to see Jim this way.

Once more Jim’s lips twitch and he lowers his head to give Spock the sweetest, slow, kiss that makes his toes curl and has him chasing it when Jim raises his head again.

Lowering their foreheads together, they take a minute to merely breathe each other in.

“When are you coming back to the alpha quadrant?” He can’t help but ask, whispering, illogically not wanting to break this moment.

Jim kisses him again instead of answering and it breaks his heart.

He deepens it, raising his hands from where they’d been caressing his sides to hugging Jim flush against his body.

When Spock lines them up this time, he plunges in slow going all the wall to the base and leaning down to kiss him filthy.

Jim locks his legs around him and finally squeezes his thighs, breaking apart only to say, “Move, for fuck sakes,” before kissing him again.

They move gentle and slow, taking their time and allowing the waves to swell languidly, drawing their pleasure out.

Jim’s sighs and pants are music to his ears and he chuckles when a strong jolt flares up in his gut.

Biting on Jim’s ears, always a fascination to Spock at how small and round they are, how sensitive, gains him a loud groan. Their speed slowly increases because in ten years they have yet to master the full slow making love session. Both desiring such overwhelming taking, such display of possession that most of their coupling is frantic, even if they did have days ahead of them.

“Do it!” Jim cries out to him, sobbing and shuddering in equal measure.

He can feel the build up of the night. How they both, ultimately crave more than this. Need more than this.

He lifts his hand and can feel Jim’s mind already reaching, searching, screaming.

And then they’re one.

Smashing.

Colliding.

Melting into one another.

Spock knows how Jim got that scar, can feel the knife slide into his shoulder. He knows the best sleep he had was on a cot just inside Bones’ medical office. Knows he only slept more than five hours when he jerked himself harshly, three separate times, panting out Spock’s name over and over.

And Jim sees him, the last nine months. How much he thought of him, how much he wanted to tell him something. How much he turned expecting Jim to be there. How he wanted to impress him.

In this place there are no words. No thoughts that aren’t tangled. There’s no order or walls, all of Spock’s precious, perfect shields crumble.

He’ll have a glorious headache for weeks as he rebuilds but the sheer completeness outweighs all the logical risks.

They cum together harshly and it’s greatly amplified in their minds. He can feel their very cores of themselves gripping burningly into one another. It's the most intense, gratifying experience he’s ever had.

Only slightly better than last time.

He doesn’t truly come out of it, not like they used to. Once, years ago, they had separated almost harshly, leaving them both cold and empty. Now they linger, hands echoing their minds, bodies once against pounding into one another.

Spock’s already got Jim’s legs over his shoulders, thrusting quicker than most humans can manage without breaking their stride.

Jim’s screaming.

“Yes! Fuck!...Uhh!”

His head thrown back, his hands bruising in their grip refuse to lessen.

Feeling every sensation multiplied, Spock is being pounded, Jim’s thick cock fucking him perfectly stretching him, landing on that spot mercilessly sending fire into his body, making his own skin feel like it’s too small and he’s going to burst.

His fucking cock is swelling just right; so sensitive every time it grinds against Jim’s stomach it makes him flinch and try to back away. Only he isn’t letting him, no, Jim is leaning closer, making that grind every time, fucking him too hard, too fast, so god damned good.

He screams one long drawn out moan and cums for what seems like forever.

And then Spock is in his own mind, thrusting deeper into Jim.

Feeling Jim reach for him, he drops Jim’s legs gently, letting out the cramps that have started to form in his clenched thighs.

Slowly, he drapes himself across Jim, moaning into his mouth, tongue twirling around Jim’s, smelling Jim’s cum and rubbing his fingers through the mess on both of them. He stops thrusting for just a moment, letting Jim’s tired mind catch up and in a flash Jim's expression shows his shock right before he pounds hard and quick back into him.

Jim throws his head back already pleading.

“Shit. No. Please. Spock! It… Fuck! Fu…stop. Too… much…ug!”

Short, powerful, deep thrusts that make him snarl wildly and would normally embarrass him, remind him too much of savagery but here, here it’s perfect.

Each thrust sending wild, primal rightness between them.

It only takes a minute, if that, before Spock is crying out, shaking, rocking into Jim slowly as he cums inside him again.

Both of them are quiet as they lay side by side, broken only by their pants.

“You’re gonna...kill…me…”

Spock manages a weak, breathless chuckle and with the last of energy he quickly grabs the blanket at their feet and wraps Jim around him a minute before they fall asleep.

They wake up twice through the night and make love more slowly, more gently, side by side, close and happy.

When Spock wakes a third time, the sun is just going up over the city and he purrs, satisfied aches making themselves known.

“I love it when you purr. It’s my proudest achievement.”

Spock smiles and arches under Jim’s hands. He continues to purr, though usually he holds firm in stopping the moment he realizes his body his doing it. Luckily, he only makes the sound around Jim, so he doesn’t do it often. It does cut off though when his hands are changed for his mouth and Spock gasps as he spreads his legs, allowing Jim to tongue his hole.

His eyes open to see that golden head shine in the morning light. His heart clenches.

Jim, he thinks, is at his most beautiful in the morning.

With the sun on his flawless skin and glowing hair, his eyes shine. Unlike Vulcans, it takes Jim a few minutes to an hour or two before he’s ready for the day and those precious moments are carefree and easy. It’s slowly made mornings Spock’s favorite time of day.

His hands bury into Jim’s hair and he relaxes his body with some difficulty.

They’ve done this enough that Spock has become relatively accustomed, however, there is always some deep instinct in him that doesn’t truly adjust.

While homosexual Vulcans exist, they are extremely rare and always oddities. The Vulcan male penis lubricates so that their women need not waste fluids in a desert climate, it makes biological sense. Then there is the matter that Vulcans by nature are aggressive, dominate and commanding, males more so than females. Relationships between two male Vulcans, even as friends, could be volatile and Pon Farr cycles did not magically align unless their bond was extremely rare and powerful.

When Jim finds him ready enough, he doesn’t ask or hesitate he merely slowly enters him in one, long, slow thrust.

His mouth drops at the utter fullness that Jim gives him.

There was no other person in the galaxy he would do with.

He’s hard now and Jim leans down to kiss him lightly, “Good morning,” he says with a touch of sleepiness on his voice.

His eyes are light and bright in the morning, his smile wide and easy.

Spock smiles back, just as happy.

“Good morning, Jim.”

Jim leans back and rocks slowly making Spock hiss in pleasure.

“Ready?”

Jim’s hands are already trailing across his chest and stomach, needy and happy. He nods unable to speak and Jim grins back.

He slowly brings his dick out and Spock reaches to grab him when he thinks he’s going to pull all the way out but he doesn’t; stopping at the tip Jim then slowly thrusts back in making Spock moan at the sensation.

“You fucked me too well last night, Spock,” Jim says with a playful pout, “Now I barely have any time with you. My ass is aching so fucking much but you got me all mind-fucked and it feels empty too.”

He drives forward harshly once, making him gasp and arch.

“So, now, I’m going to have to get a little creative with you. I think I’m going to bend you over the couch after this with your hands tied behind your back. And then fuck you hard, as hard as you pounded into me last night. Then once more in the shower and I won’t let up until you cave. Until all that Vulcan pride and ego is at my feet, begging me to let you cum for me. After you eat me out again. Fuck, you’re so good at that, baby.”

He moans throughout it, lost in Jim’s movements, in his hands, his lips, his voice, always talking, teasing, driving him closer, always pulling him in.

By the end, he’s the one begging and Jim, thankfully is ready to cum too, so he wraps a hand around him and furiously pumps him until he’s coming over Jim’s hand, gasping.

After a few more strokes that make him twitch and shake, Jim is throwing his head back and Spock can feel the cum fill him up.

This, this is why he does it. Why he let’s someone see and feel him at his most vulnerable.

The feeling of them, of this precious give and take... it’s equal with the two of them, unlike so many around them.

No other person would be able to make him this enraptured, this obsessed. 

Bringing James pleasure, being the one to do that is something excruciatingly, deeply moving.

It never crossed his mind when he went to Terra that first time that he would have someone like Jim in his life, never mind living to orbit around the man.

He lives for these hours, the few days, the week when they find each other.

Running away from the reality of their lives.

Sharing everything and nothing.

James fucks him over the couch just as he says. Slamming into him with a vengeance that has Spock crying and shouting in equal measure, gaged by the cloth tied around his mouth, Jim’s hand steady on his hip, fingers leaving scratch marks that burn, the other punishingly gripped in his hair.

It glorious and he reaches mentally to Jim who jack-rabbits roughly into him in response, both of them screaming when they cum together.

Before Spock is even coming down from it, Jim is hauling him up, he moans at the ache in his ass.

Trying to clench the liquid slowly dripping down, he moans again. He manages to keep his footing but is relieved when Jim forces him on his knees in the shower.

Jim turned it just cold enough to cause Spock to flinch before taking off the gag.

“Now, this is how it’s going to go.” Jim’s voice is amused, even, controlled.

“You’re going to please me anyway I tell you to. If you do it right, I’ll warm up the water, wrong…and you’ll regret it. Now get in the spray.”

Spock stiffened, like his father’s people he was vulnerable to cold. He thought about caving the moment he shuffled under it but one look at Jim’s expectant eyes and he straightened his shoulders.

Spock spent the next few minutes concentrating almost of all his focus on pleasuring Jim, on his voice, his taste, his body. He measured every tremble, every held back sigh. He did as he was told.

So engrossed in Jim’s moans he barely registered the water change.

“Get up.”

It took a moment for him to understand and Jim’s impatient hands tugged at his shoulders.

Raising his head, tongue reluctantly leaving Jim's hole, he rubbed his nose against Jim's cock as he rose, only then noticing his shaking.

His jaw wanted to lock, his joints burning and aching.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jim whispered before turning him around.

He gasped at the shock of water now on the other spectrum.

His heart fluttered and he allowed himself to concentrate on his body temperature again.

Under the burning water, just slightly hotter than Vulcan standard but what would surely burn Jim, he slowly warmed as Jim kneaded his straining muscles on his back. His hands still tied behind him, his legs stopped trembling and Jim’s slow, sure hands slowly started to feel pleasurable.

Steam covered the shower, Spock wanted to lean into the hot rain and equally wanted to lean back into Jim’s arms and chest.

Jim won out as he always did and the blonde wrapped his arms around him.

For a long moment they held each other and Jim pressed sweet kissed into his neck.

And then they turned to bites.

His body surrendered in one fluid moment.

It was all Jim needed. 

 

With both reluctance and relief, Jim cut the water off after he washed them carefully once they were finished.

While the majority of him did not like an abundance of water at any time, he cherished how natural and excited Jim became once water was involved.

The only times he had taken baths or showers and not used sonics is when they used them together.

Jim didn’t release his hands until he dried them both with soft towels.

Spock body was flushed green, bruises were forming on his ass, aches making their presence known as and yet he still felt excitement even with his body stated and tired.

Spock allowed himself only the slightest of twitch in his fingers trying to ignore the tingling of getting sensation back.

Together with Jim, he followed his lead and put on the soft, thick bathrobe.

With the slightest ache in his heart, he picked up the routine and got to the hotel comm to summon their regular breakfast.

Jim sighed happily as Spock settled beside him on the couch and it lingered with him, piercing deeply.

The relationship they had was in no way perfect for either of them. It was turbulent and full of too much want and desire for things they knew they couldn’t have with each other.

Yet, it was these moments, these perfect moments that made everything else trivial.

Waking up next to him, holding him, watching him laugh at the holo, eyes alight and smile easy, cuddled into his side, happy and stated and just being; these were the moments that Spock lived for.

He craved laying on the couch, Jim wrapped around him listening as scolded the actors. “

Oh my god, do it! Come on! Jesus, how is this lasting more than two episodes, get over it!”

Spock nuzzled Jim’s head that had found itself way into the crook of his neck, his body warm with Jim half on top him.

Spock agreed.

This whole concept was determined on the two actors not discussing the chemistry between them.

Prior to leaving Vulcan, Spock hadn’t ever thought of this was a situation for real life. But since then, he had seen many communication errors in humans and aliens that were simply solved by just being truthful.

Spock was blunt, unapologetically and had required many years in order to adjust to human customs.

Jim, he was thankful for, while capable of holding back never thought to do so around him and he noted, with some smugness, the moment chemistry was clear between them, Jim took advantage; never one to miss an opportunity.

He kissed Jim lightly when the door was buzzed and went to get their meals.

Breakfast was heavenly and open to conversation. They talked about projects they were working on, McCoy, his parents, things they wanted to see and read and visit.

Safe topics.

Like always, when they finished their meal and the holo ran it’s time, it grew more and more oppressive.

The air grew thick and heavy leading to both of them laying down simply holding each other.

Jim’s hands tightened just slightly in Spock’s bathrobe right before Spock pushed down his dread.

When Jim rose, it was slow and all his lazy comfort slowly shed until his shoulders were back and his back straight and his expression closed off.

When he spoke it was carefully controlled, “Guess it’s time.”

Spock couldn’t respond so he gave a stiff nod instead, swallowing hard.

They dressed in silence and walked side-by-side out into the hallway, Jim just barely showing a satisfying limp. Spock himself only kept from doing so out of Vulcan control.

It wasn’t until the lift that Jim reached out the barest movement to brush their hands together.

The sparks and tingles reached up his arm and Spock closed his eyes for a moment savoring the feeling of this.

Jim followed him out a step behind and waited by the lobby doors as he paid for the night wishing he was staying, wishing they could tour the city and simply experience something together.

As they made their way out into the warm summer day, the mid-morning sun was bright and as Jim would say, opposite of what it should have been.

For all of Spock’s logic; he’d much rather a cloudy, stormy, dreary day.

They stood silently by the pillars of carport, the alien violet flora lending glowing leaves and on any other day complimenting the pale pink sky.

“Come here,” Jim said right before he grabbed him roughly, surprising him.

He huffed as he was jarred into the blonde’s chest only barely catching his balance on the pillar behind Jim.

Lips were on his before he could compose himself.

Jim’s hands slid across his chest up over his jacket and onto the back of his neck, making him press closer, kiss deeper, savoring once more everything that Jim was.

Jim’s hands clenched and he smiled into those beautiful pink lips knowing how badly Jim wanted to rake them over his hair.

He could feel it, sense it, their minds still linked even now. Everything that Jim was feeling; the same dread, the same dashed hope, the same _need-take-want-want-need._

He bit those lips, holding Jim’s bottom lip until he tasted blood and Jim whimpered so perfectly for him.

No matter how long he had to wait, no matter the work and the distractions, he knew he wouldn’t feel alive again until he felt Jim next to him.

“You could always come with me,” Jim whispered, eyes still closed, forehead against his.

It wasn’t the first time Jim put everything out there and Spock wanted to seize it, wanted to grasp at it.

He pressed ever closer to Jim crushing him to the pillar.

He would take it, he would, if it didn’t mean losing everything else.

But more and more, every time they met it seemed like Jim was everything and perhaps, he could walk away. Perhaps, it would even be easy for him.

Except he heard Jim’s voice all those times he told Spock to stay, to remain whole and untarnished and he feared that if he took Jim up on it, if they spent every moment together, if Spock fully committed to Jim to the depths he knew the man went to…he feared Jim would truly see him.

And would find him lacking.

In Spock’s unspoken doubts he thought that this chase and hunt and release is what keeps Jim coming back.

And he knew he wouldn’t survive not knowing if Jim was coming back.

All this fear and doubt and want all looped to Jim and he had to strain to hear the whispered, “I’ll be crashing the party at Base 10 next month.”

Spock’s heart leapt and he swallowed hard, kissing Jim lightly and swiping his tongue across the still bleeding mark.

“You should stay clear of Sector five for the next six months,” he whispered back.

Jim nodded, barely able to move with how close they were and he felt Jim’s smile before he opened those crystal blue eyes once again.

“Until next time, then.”

Spock’s breath hitched, he nodded and said, “Until next time.”

 

 

It is two weeks later when Captain Pike walks into his lab. He isn’t concerned, Chris likes to ‘drop in’ on all departments from time to time. That is, until Pike quietly dismisses everyone and slowly walks up to him. 

Spock puts down his equipment and curiously looks over at the quiet Captain. The moment last long and Spock grows concerned for the first time.

When Pike finally looks him in the eye, Spock knows.

Chris hands over a PADD. On it is one surprisingly half-decrypted message. It dates back three months ago. Location dates. One he knows is an attack-evidence enough against him. The other is the bar where he last met Jim. The place they docked so recently.

“Are you Star Fleet's mole, Commander? Spock, be honest, are you working with our enemy?”


	2. I Found the Devil; He's My Lover

T’Pau’s presence was doubled with another mind-reader and Spock had to split his concentration drastically.

It was agonizing and he could hear his mother pleading, feel his father in his mind trying to logic with him. He lost the battle of shielding his mind when a third healer’s presence came. The amount of force used shattered his walls with tremendous sharp pain that echoed through his mind for a single, blinding out moment.

Then it echoed as he kept resisting. The healers went all the way back to when he first left Vulcan. Naïve, young, ambitious and ultimately very lonely. They went over the innocent exchange, the first chance meeting of him and James T. Kirk. Of all places, it was a simple case of sitting next to each other on, out of all things, a conference on Intergalactic Commerce and Trading.

Jim had looked over at him, smiled and halfway through leaned over to him and said, “I can’t believe he’s the leading expert on tax reforms. I can list five different ways to improve it eighty-three-point nine percent.”

Spock had at first been frustrated at the common human trait to interrupt but as the conference went on his curiosity spiked.

Jim had told him all the ways he could do it better, eyes bright over drinks in the bar. Spock had admitted after three hours that Jim had a point but only a hypothetical approval of sixty-nine percent.

It had been as easy at that.

And Spock watched unable to stop it or pull away as the healers examined every intimacy and private moment, every flare of emotion, every memory of him and Jim exposed and brutally inspected. Every ounce of his privacy was violated, his consent waved, on trial he had no say, no choice.

He watched as Jim and him experienced their first kiss, their first true conversation, their first sexual encounter-Spock’s first experience.

They watched as Spock fell in love. How his thoughts turned to Jim, how his emotions and moods synchronized to the very presence of him. How his eyes light up when he entered the room, how Jim’s skin felt on his own. They watched every encounter, from the first light touches to the desire and uncertain longing.

From shy and excited to deepening respect and admiration.

And finally, the truth.

Vulcans treasured honesty, truthfulness. They were blunt in their logic, careless with feelings. Because to be honest was not only logical and stopped all confusion and doubts but also treasured because it allowed another person to truly accept you, all of you.

There was no escape in the connection in which all Vulcans truly craved; the only true connection that existed for them.

The one of their minds, the exchange of their katra's. 

And he had known straight from that first gentle, fleeting touch of their fingers. That first brush over drinks. He had felt the strength, the depth of Jim’s mind-reaching, reaching as it also did. He knew the darkness in it too. A shadow in the very back, once Jim hid it well but as they grew closer the more of Jim shined, the more his smile turned sharp and his eyes burned with a fierceness that Spock could barely stand.

He had seen the holos, seen the profile.

Lieutenant Commander Spock had been on the team that hunted James T. Kirk.

He had seen the bodies, had seen the explosions, had fought in battles against Jim’s very allies. One by one, they examined his disbelief, his logical mind coming up with explanations, with excuses and then coming to the conclusion that the man he loved was a criminal.

One who did not want to change.

And Spock snarled and fought and raged against the invasion, he fought in those memories just as hard.

Fought against Jim and himself. He had fought to leave the man.

An entire year of nothing. No Jim, no laughter, no touches, nothing. He had never been so empty, so alone.

And then he had bumped into him, a surprise to both of them, the sheer shock and happiness and nervousness coming off Jim was like the sun coming out.

Knowing what he knew, Jim knowing that he was exposed, that Spock could turn him in, all of it was nothing. Because Spock’s first thought was to hold him and be held.

And he was there that night when Jim came to him with blood dried under his nails, overlooked in haste to meet.

And he was there to see the bruises and the scars.

He was there that day when the Temple of Hetta had been bombed.

Making love to Jim, having him underneath him one moment so open, a smile on his face, laughing at Spock's teasing, so _his_ , and then in the next the sound blasted through the city, the very hotel shook and the blonde tensed, shocked.

Then he saw the flicker of rage in his eyes.

Spock had been bombarded with thoughts and emotions.

_Fuckers went early without my say so- Shit, Spock-fuck- Wasn’t supposed to happen like-_

“Spock,” was all that Jim could say, breathing hard, flushed red down to his chest.

He felt all of the dread, the guilt, the fear.

And he sensed then for the first time T’Pau’s emotion, her surprise, horror and her despair as she watched the memory.

When Spock had looked out those hotel windows, floor to ceiling and seen that temple collapse in fiery demise, in the sirens and the distant screams he had been shocked.

He had been fully stripped of all doubt, of all excuses.

This was the man he loved. It was in that moment, he had thought it.

He loved Jim.

It had hurt so badly.

But his attention turned from the ash cloud to those wide vulnerable eyes staring back at him and he realized that this was truly Jim.

He was seeing him for the first time.

Something Jim never would have allowed. And instead of disgust he had instead fell deeper in love with him. There were no more pretenses, no more fantasies. Jim became a real-life man, complex, confusing, heartbreakingly multidimensional.

He was a puzzle Spock could never get to one picture for long the man who had just killed thousands and the man who laughed with him and debated holos and read him historic, terran poetry.

And Spock silently had lifted himself off Jim, making the other man freeze even more.

Until he reached out a hand, until he led him to the window.

Until that is, he placed himself behind Jim, both of them looking at that wreckage, at the tiny masses running, the stopping of the hover cars on emergency programs as sirens rang through the city. 

Jim had gasped, his whole body collapsing under such blinding relief that Spock had to carry him.

He held Jim up against the window, thrusted into him slowly, kissed him gentle and sweet.

Jim’s walls had crumbled completely. When they came together that time their minds were so interwound that Spock hadn’t paid much attention to the second blast.

And slowly the healers all examined the little details.

The soft breathless whispers. Never a true explanation or a true give.

A clue. A puzzle piece. A warning.

“The Enterprise will be examining a new planet next week. It flora has a strange scent about it, Doctor M’Benga thinks it could be medical.”

“I hate those antae though. Like Andorian’s expose so much of themselves. You should go to Star Base 3 instead of 7 because there’s more Andorians posted there. We can compare notes.”

“Thirty-five fifty -three. It’s my favorite number you know.”

“June is always the best months to see that sector.”

“There’s going to be a celebration for Bones' birthday. You should stock up on vaccines since he's planning on hogging them all.”

On and on the warnings came.

Spock had never given clearance away, never gave intel to that extent.

But he gave warnings, where they were piloting, where Jim should avoid to elude capture.

And Jim had given them back; where Spock and the Enterprise should avoid, what new 'diseases' might harm them in their explorations, where another attack was headed.

On and on it went until the end, until the last meeting.

The withdrawal at the end of the meld was sudden and shocking. He gasped and collapsed under the pounding emptiness. His walls were tattered and torn. It would take weeks to heal from the assault.

T’Pau stepped back, her face closed but Spock had the lingering feelings of sadness, of anger, of fear and horror and shock.

None of it showed and only his mothers gasps showed emotion in the room.

Even Captain Pike was withdrawn, arms crossed, mouth tight, spine straighter than Spock had seen.

His crew were all banned from viewing his trial but he had walked through the ship just yesterday, handcuffed and had felt it all. The shock, outrage and disbelief pulsed through him. Raw against the emotions in the room, he huddled into himself. His mind searing in pain.

“S’chn T’gai Spock, you have been found guilty of crimes against the Federation.”

His mother stood on instinct, only to be blocked by his father and her broken sob etched into his heart.

“You have knowingly aided the criminal James Tiberius Kirk helping him elude capture. You have had intel on his targets, his operation, his allies and did not report it to anyone. You have bared witness to his attacks, detailed and reported victims and yet showed no remorse or logical thought to act against him. S’chn T’gai Spock, you have been found guilty of treason against the Federation, your citizenship is revoked and you will be sent to Victor Five Penal Colony for your sentence of life.”

He barely caught the words but felt everything, his mother’s cries lowered but not without one last heartbreaking sob.

His own wanted to come out and he barely raised his gaze to meet her's.

 His mother was red-eyed and her hair whiter than he last remembered. She was flushed, devastated at what was happening in front of her, devastated by him.  

His father, for once, showed his grief but looked quickly away in shame just as his grandmother did.

Christopher, his captain and mentor was in shock. His eyes never moved from Spock but he could tell the procedure had yet to fully hit the older man. He was pale but dried eyed and didn't stop staring.

And Nyota…

Nyota had spoken to him of the mole, she had dug into it.

Nyota who had been his first friend, his first kind smile and his first companion. She had whispered to him of love and acceptance and understanding. She had made love to him countless times over the last seven years. Spoken of living together, of vacations, of children and bonding in the future, even going so far to get medical treatments to keep her youthful longer.

How he wished he felt the same.

It was then, the beautiful, strong and brilliant linguist saw it.

Truly, for the first time, saw _him_.

She didn’t sob or scream or shake.

She took a deep breath in the knowledge that he didn’t love her, never had, _couldn’t,_ she took in his sentencing, the truth of his crimes, of his personal betrayal to her and she broke.

It was silent, lost in the commotion of his mother, in the backs of the Vulcans, in the cold, sterile room.

But Spock made sure to watch and to remember.

Nyota let out a silent gasp, tears finally falling down her cheeks in quiet trails and then she got up and walked out, not looking back, her shoulders hunched and arms curled around her.

 

 

Spock stayed for the night in a holding cell before shipping out. He knew he deserved this punishment. He accepted it.

His head snapped up when he heard the footsteps. They were too light to be a guard, too heavy to be female. A small part of him died at the thought of not seeing his mother one last time. His heart raced though when he saw his father instead.

He stood, still shaky but able as his father merely stared at him, once more blank.

For long moments they stared at each other. Spock, overwhelmed, was frightened to break the heavy silence.

“You are a fool.”

Spock stepped back hearing the calm, quiet words like a physical blow. His eyes lowered to the metal floor.

“I love him,” he couldn’t help but choke out.

“I know.”

Spock glanced up quickly.

“I know,” his father repeated, brows drawn in a rare display of grief, “but that is why you are utterly, completely idiotic. You have ruined your life for passion. This is why Vulcans shield such emotions as you should have done the moment you suspected anything criminal from a lover.”

Spock turned away, hands clenched, and concentrated on leveling his breathing. “I…I couldn’t stop this…It was too much.”

“You are T’hy’la.”

Spock twisted and swiftly turned to look at Sarek.

“It’s true?” He gasped.

Sarek’s head rose and said, “You knew.”

“I…I suspected. Our minds…they were too easily melded. The breaking of it has always been painful.”

Sarek nodded and for a moment Spock could see everything in the elder man drain. He looked exhausted and defeated.

“I understand why you acted in such a way with such a bond, however, logic had to have remained. You should have come forward. You knew of this for years, Spock. He hadn’t been so great an enemy years ago, if you turned him in, he would have only served ten years at most. He would have been free by now and with time served, you two could have chosen a different path.”

Spock was already shaking his head, “He never would have trusted me.”

“So, you chose trust over countless lives?”

Spock flinched.

His father took a deep breath and step[ed toward the forcefield.

“Spock, you have to see it, use your logic; Jim Kirk knows nothing of bonds. As head of an organization he wouldn’t want you to truly connect with him, secrecy is utmost to those of that life. Logic Spock, he found you. He targeted you. The young Vulcan, Prince of his people, new to Terra and Starfleet. Everyone had been speaking of you, everyone estimating your rise. He wanted to mold someone to be his eyes and ears on the inside. And you provided a means for him. You were business to him.”

Spock shook his head, his lungs tight and breathless. His throat was closing up as his father mercilessly continued.

“He never meant for you to join him, Spock. You were too valuable to be at his side,” his father paused and seemed reluctant to keep breaking Spock’s heart, “That is why you are a fool. There was never going to be an end for you two, other than this. And he knew it.”

Spock sobbed hearing the truth in his father’s tone.

Still shaking his head, unwilling to hear it, his knees gave out from under him and he huddled on the floor, lost to his grief.

“Goodbye, my son... Your mother loves you.”

 

 

 

Spock sat between a Vulcan northern tribesman and a human. The transport wasn’t as small as he imagined but it wasn’t too large either. He felt no fear like many humans were displaying, he felt no anger or rage like the two other Vulcans.

He was empty, devoid of anything that resembled himself.

He didn’t know who he was anymore, or perhaps, he never had. He had danced with the devil, gotten high on power, on possession, on love.

He didn’t know if this was what Jim had foreseen or planned for.

Perhaps, he already had someone new. The thought tore at him.

Closing his eyes, he tried to meditate, to go back to childhood memories of innocence, of memories he had once looked over ashamed.

And yet, the only thing that brought him peace were blue eyes and a blinding smile.

He let his head fall against the side of the ship with a small, low thud.

There would be no more peace for him.

His father had been right. The more he thought on it, the more logical sense it made.

Spock had been so stupidly smitten, so utterly transparent in the beginning he had been an easy target. So embarrassingly lonely, the moment Jim turned his attention to Spock he had folded.

Jim must have laughed.

Once more, Spock winced at his thoughts.

His attention, like the other two silent Vulcans, soon turned to the cockpit. Unlike the humans and Andorians on the ship, they heard what was happening.

Spock glanced at the Vulcan across from him and both of them raise a brow at each other in surprise.

A storm coming out of nowhere was affecting the ship’s consoles and shields.

The cockpit door opened and a guard ran down the aisle to the stairs to his left and down to the engine room. The lights all flashed a few times before going out, sirens wailing and the emergency lights came on in red.

“What the fuck is happening?” A man yelled to the cockpit as many started to pull on their restraints tying them to the armrests of their seats.

There was no point, each was created from their own strength records, no one would be able to get out. Besides, even if one did, Spock calculated it would take more then ten minutes plus another fifteen for the thicker ankle manacles to full free oneself.

Shouting started, another guard came from the cockpit as sparks blew up in there.

“Shit!”

Spock lowered his head in reflex from Starfleet but nothing other than a little surprise happened. The sparks were contained and unlike flying with Pike, shit did _not_ , in fact, hit the fan.

The two guards in the cockpit shook their heads at each other in obvious confusion.

The one closer to the door looked at them all, frowned, and then bellowed, “Shut the fuck up! Everything’s fine and none of you are leaving. Back to your moody silence, shitheads.”

Spock scoffed, shaking his head but held back from the snarl that the northerner didn’t.

Before the guard could respond, light flashed before them and someone was beaming on board.

Gaping, he watched as Jim appeared.

The guard was shocked but quickly launched forward.

Jim, not yet having gotten his baring, took the attack, flipped the guard over and then punched him right on the temple knocking him out in one move.

The other guard hearing the fight ran out into the hold and went for his phaser.

Jim was faster, launching himself behind the middle seats, getting a prisoner stunned instead of him.

Jim raised his arm, quick and Spock watched as the guard slumped blood spraying over the walls as Jim shot him.

“Shit! Fuck!”

Without even looking around, Jim found him, eyes-wide and slightly dumbfounded he said, “I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to see that. I forgot to put it on stun.”

Jim slowly approached him as if approaching a wild animal and knelt in front of him.

“Hey,” he said gently before putting his palms on Spock’s knees. The warmth of those hands seeped into his prisoner issued pants and Spock’s eyes fluttered closed unable to believe this was happening.

_Jim came back for him._

_Why did he come here?_

_Why was he here?_

_What had they been doing?_

_What were they?_

_What was Spock?_

“Spock, I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry. I saw,” Jim took a deep breath and said, “I saw your sentencing. This is all my fault. We both know that and I can’t change Spock, if I could I would have. God, I tried, I really tried-“

“Jesus, get a fucking room already!”

Spock opened his eyes to watch Jim’s face looking so soft and concerned to hard and cold, he stood, furious and stunned the man, saying, “Anyone else want to interrupt my conversation?”

And then he stunned the last guard coming up from the engineering room before the man made it fully up the stairs, terribly at being discreet.

“Next one, won’t be a fucking stun!”

Spock swallowed, heart fluttering at the sight.

He forced himself to look at the dead guard. Jim felt no remorse over it.

Jim knelt back down but now he was uncertain, his gaze was intense, questioning, hesitant. “I can’t…Fuck. I tried saying away Spock. I tried that. I tried giving it all up, you know how this started, I know you looked in my mind. You know…God Spock, you know everything about me. I didn’t want this for you. I didn’t want you with me.”

Jim ran his hands through his hair as Spock tried to even his hitched breath, Jim still caught it and stilled before his eyes widened in understanding.

He laughed then and once again Spock’s heart broke.

A tear escaped and he swallowed hard wanting to turn away so badly his body started to shake.

“Oh no. No! Spock.” Jim went to reach out only to stop himself. “I didn’t want you with me because I knew I’d corrupt you. I do that to people. I hollow them out. I burn them. Bones says I…well…never mind, not the point. The point is, you’re the most beautiful, moral, good man I’ve ever met. Your strong, stronger than you give yourself credit for, you’re light in the dark and that’s one of the many reasons why I love you. And I don’t want that to change for you. 

“But dammit! This happens!”

Jim glared back at everyone so seriously they looked away, except the curious Vulcans.

Once more Jim ran his hand through his hair and his shoulders slumped in mirrored defeat of his own father.

Disappointed in very different ways.

“You can go to the colony, you know? They wouldn’t make you serve life. You’re too important. They’ll probably meld with you in ten years and see if your remorseful and then put you on probation. If not sooner. I honestly think because you never gave me real intel, they’d be back in five for your help with something.”

Spock could see Jim’s mind racing, his calculations spinning and his lips twitched wondering what ‘something’ Jim would make up for his release.

“I can’t ask that you come with me. I can’t. I did that to Bones years ago and it’s not…it’s not something I can do with you.”

Jim looked at him intensely, expression open and slowly he steeled himself, closed himself off from Spock’s searching gaze and said, “I can beam us both out in two minutes and thirteen seconds, but it has to be your decision Spock. Yours alone. There won’t be any going back either.”

Jim swallowed noticeably and a flicker of uncertainty flashed before he said, “It’ll be hard…and you might even hate it so…logic, Spock. Pros and Cons. I can't have you leave hating me for this.”

Jim stopped and Spock took a deep breath.

The first thing he thought was; Jim loved him. He said that he loved him.

He also killed someone and hasn’t even looked over the dead body. He killed thousands.

And if Spock went with him…Spock finally understood Jim’s fear…Spock would become like him. Not at first, not for many years but eventually, he would kill just as easily. He would have to kill.

Spock would become an Inter-Galactic Criminal; wanted throughout the Federation. He would become corrupt, ruthless, a murderer.

But wasn’t he already?

He had lied, betrayed, allied himself to Jim already. He had witnessed thousands die and had felt nothing, only pride in his lover’s achievement.

And wasn’t that the lowest a man to fall?

Jim had predicted that Spock would be released early and perhaps that would be true. The blonde had always had a way of guessing correctly so much so that Spock had stopped doubting him years ago.

Only, he would have to show remorse. That was standard protocol.

Would Spock ever be remorseful over his actions?

He turned and looked over at the dead guard. After a few long moments, Jim shuffled and he counted in his head.

“Spock?”

He looked up at Jim, his cerulean eyes, full pink lips, his skin kissed gold and strong, firm hands twitching at his sides.

When he spoke, he said the only words that he could.

“I choose life.”

Jim’s grin was as brilliant and satisfying as ever.

 

 

 

When they beamed aboard, Jim’s hand was interwound in his, their minds fully merged and bonded as naturally as Spock had always thought. Doctor McCoy was leaning against the wall, unimpressed and he rolled his one good eye at them. “Great, you got the hobgoblin. Now, it’s two weeks before we make it to Romulus, going the long way around.”

“Fantastic,” Jim said happily, “We’ll have time for a honeymoon.”

Bones froze and then threw up his hands before walking out.

Surprisingly, beside whom Spock guessed to be the madman Scotty, was a Vulcan female. Her gaze was cool, challenging and he held Jim’s hand tighter. Her gaze shifted to it, dismissed it before shifting her eyes ever quickly and unassumingly at the door.

Ah, so McCoy was her intended. Due to the man’s aversion to telepathy, he restated and perhaps should use the word; _target_. He nodded subtly and she noticeably warmed up to him.

“Good day, Captain.” She said before nodding at them both and leaving.

His lips twitched, he wondered if he should try locating her in an hour just to see if she was in medbay.

Scotty was gobsmacked and opened-mouthed he looked wide-eyed at Spock.

“How’d you do that?” He asked in an accent.

Spock merely raised a brow and asked, “Do what?”

Jim snorted, pulled Spock forward and said, “I’m showing our new First Officer to his quarters. I swear, if I get interrupted in the newt two days, I will put you in the cell block, so help me.”

“Yes, Captain,” followed them out into the halls.

Spock stopped seeing how organic everything was.

The corridors to the transporter room was made up of plant life. Moss grew on the walls, grass on the floor, the lights seemed more natural and here the air was light smelling slightly of rain.

He turned trying to recognize what ran down left of him but all he could determine was that it was furry.

His mind started to race over the experiments he could conduct.

He remembered all of Jim’s questions, his theory right in the beginning of their friendship.

“You made it,” he said in awe.

This ship was an ecosystem in itself, a home away from planets, meant for long term travelers.

Jim looked shyly back at him and said, “It wouldn’t be anywhere as near this if it weren’t for your gorgeous brain. And Scotty. But the man is driving everyone mad lately, he can’t get floor’s five to eight right and the rain doesn’t work as it should and we can’t get floor three to act like an actual desert yet. I think you’ll like it once it’s up on running though. Think you can get it there in the next year? The Romulans are getting cranky over it.”

Spock ran his fingers through the slightly cool moss and nodded.

“This is home now, I guess. Ready to see where you’ll live?”

Spock turned to Jim, pressed his lips to Jim’s while gently sliding his fingers along Jim’s and said purring, “Yes, Captain.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ten years later, Spock did get a call.

It wasn’t from a prole-officer but from his mother.

Her eyes were clear, her face shocked and unable to witness what was now inter-galactic news.

“Spock, honey, we didn’t know. We had…everyone is going crazy at this news. Are you…Oh, god.”

“Amanda,” his father spoke calmly, taking over, “Everyone is sure. This corruption, is without question rampant, wide-spread and deep. The attack on Tella Prime shows us how the Terra and Andorian governments are deteriorating. These past few years have led to many questionable Vulcan deaths and missing persons and it all needs to be settled now rather than wait pacify indefinitely. The High Council would like a meeting with you two as well as the Romulan Emperor to seek reunification. It is time our peoples become allies, so many Vulcans and Romulans are treated as outsiders for communicating and living together, it is time we embraced instead of be ashamed. With T'Pau stepping down as Head of the High Council we need to appear strong and unyielding in the current uncertainty and instability.”

Spock nodded.

He was godfather to little Prince Nylok, getting in touch with his father was no problem.

His mother sighed, still shaky but said, "Your citizenship will be reissued since you were the one to expose all this. It won't be available until next Monday though, it's the earliest your father could get it since half the Council is against it."

Spock nodded again, this time silently going over the Vulcan Elders he knew were against him and sharing it with Jim.

"Spock..." his father said slowly glancing at his mother and then back at him, "Your mother and I thought it would be prudent due to all the changes currently that we renew our family bonds when you arrive. As you will once more back in the Federation, what left of it that is, and back as a Vulcan citizen it wouldn't be unquestionable for our minds to link once again." 

Spock felt his heart skip and Jim replied for him with a blinding smile, "Of course he'd want that," he said with a light slap to Spock's shoulder. "Besides, family needs to stick together, thick and thin and all." 

Everyone understood the subtle threat involved. Amanda and Sarek would be forgiven mostly because Spock had never truly blamed them but also because Amanda had been contacting him secretly for years not often but enough that they knew each other was well. Jim would forgive them for Spock but not a second time. 

If they were to be accepted now there would be no turning back later. 

Sarek took a long time, silently looking at them judging and reasoning until he finally nodded and Amanda breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“What do you plan on doing?” His mother asked anxious at all the chaos and rapid change in the Federation.

For so many years, they had killed, hunted and stole. Yet it never was without cause, never without thought.

Jim had always had a plan after all.

And now, with Spock’s calculations, this was going perfectly. Admirals, princes, spies, they were all doing exactly as he hoped. Playing directly into their hands.

It was the most exhilarating of emotions. Spock turned to look over at his mate, looking completely in his element and watched happily as Jim grinned in response to his In-Laws.

Spock noted that they would have to meet in person prior to the Council meetings. Jim should be welcomed into his clan officially. They were T’hy’la and that needed to be acknowledged and respected.

“What we’ve always been planning on, My Lady. We’re taking over the Federation, of course,” Jim grinned, “and we’re starting with that troublesome Terra. We’re hoping the High Council votes in your favor Sarek, with T’Pau stepping down it is only logical that you take over from here. We’ll talk more when we meet up next week. And make sure you arrange a huge, wonderful ceremony.”

Amanda grinned and said seriously, "I'll make sure to inform everyone in the clan."

Spock smiled back at his parents, his mother nodding frightened and yet showing the steel in her expression as her chin lifted, his father looked as always fierce and imposing before they all logged off.

They would be in a full out war in six months time but their moles already sabotaged much of new star-ships being built. Not that they knew that yet of course.

It would be a war on information, propaganda and logic rather than phaser fire.

Intellect rather than brawn.

Spock calculated only another two more years before they sat on thrones but not before making Vulcan and Terra the most powerful planets first. With their allies and Romulus joining Vulcan with Sybok’s help, they would achieve what no other person had in history.

“God, I’m so happy I chose you,” Jim said, falling into his lap.

Spock grunted, adjusted his human, and replied, “Likewise.”

Jim kissed him hungrily before he said, “I’m am killing Nyota though. Just, you know, heads up. I can’t get through her communication tower at all. Bitch.”

Spock rolled his eyes, both in amusement and disappointment that she didn’t join them. Jim was right to say she was the leading expert in her field even if she had been a one-time lover of his. And watching a jealous Jim was one of his favorite pastimes, having her onboard would have been practically fun-for him. 

Jim’s jealousy showed for a moment as he tugged harshly in Spock’s hair right before they were interrupted by crying.

“It’s your turn,” he said without remorse.

Jim groaned, his head falling into the crook of Spock’s neck before he glared but got up to change their son.

“You know, I liked you better when you had compassion.”

“Many have.” He responded drily.

Jim snorted, gathering their son into his arms, making Spock’s primal instincts flare.

Jim smirked back at him knowingly and said, “So, you wanna lead the invasion this time, or should I?”

“Will McCoy rage again?”

“Well, I mean you did go a little off on the Desinz people, just saying. I was only lightly wounded.”

Spock growled low in remembrance and Jim quickly moved on, “But I mean, he is getting telepathically and actually laid now that T’Nes got her claws in him….so…. he’s manageable,” he finished with a shrug.

“Fantastic,” Spock said casually, gracefully getting to his feet.

He walked over to his mate, traced a finger of the pointed tipped ear of their new infant and leaned in to nip Jim’s rounded one, his other hand grabbing Jim’s ass.

Jim gasped as he drew blood. “We’ll flip a coin.”

Jim grinned wickedly, expression full of mischief and dark, fiery excitement.

“Works for me, Commander.”

 

 

 


End file.
